


wait for love (i'll wait for you)

by LadyMerlin



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: All Hail Codango, Antiquated Notions of Virginity, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, First Time, Fluff, Honesty, Idiots in Love, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mentions of Alcohol Consumption, Mentions of Anxiety, Mentions of Drunken Fumbling, Mentions of kink, Not Beta Read, Relationship Discussions, Snark, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tsukishima Kei & Yamaguchi Tadashi Friendship, Tsukishima Kei is Bad at Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-10 17:25:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15296421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMerlin/pseuds/LadyMerlin
Summary: Kei rolls his eyes and slides his phone into his back pocket, even though he has to elbow Kuroo in the ribs to do it. He doesn’t mean it to hurt. Much.“So mean,” Kuroo sighs, but it doesn’t sound like a complaint, and he certainly doesn’t let go of Kei.“You like it,” Kei replies, not even sure where the flirtatious words come from.“God help me, I do.” Kuroo sounds besotted, and it goes a long way towards making Kei feel better about his earlier panic spiral.[This picks up from the end ofHe always starts somethingby Codango, a fic I could not recommend more highly.]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [He always starts something](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7234666) by [Codango](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Codango/pseuds/Codango). 



> I don't think this fic requires warnings but read the end notes anyway, just to be safe.
> 
> This marks my 100th fic on AO3 \o/ (yes, I am pretending that FFNet and LJ never happened, why?)

Kei honestly expects it to be more difficult to control himself after they get together. It had been hard enough when he was – he refuses to use the word pining, but – when he was _interested_ in Kuroo from a distance. Now, well... 

Kuroo is— Kuroo is himself, all long legs and slow smirk and sizzling temptation. Sometimes Kei wants to touch him so badly he can’t even function. It takes him a while to remember that he’s actually allowed to touch, if he wants to. It takes even longer for him to realise that Kuroo might even welcome Kei’s attentions.

That revelation is definitely a turning point in their relationship.

Every time Kei touches him, Kuroo touches back. Every time Kei even _glances_  at him, Kuroo looks back with so much heavy intent in his dark eyes that his gaze feels like a physical touch against Kei’s skin. It’s a good thing he’s never been prone to blushing, else the whole game would have been given away. Whatever Kei gives, Kuroo reciprocates brilliantly. It’s really nice, even though Kei would rather lose a limb than admit it.

Kuroo is very good at this whole dating-flirting-being-together thing. The long and short of it is that Kei isn’t. At least, he doesn’t think he is. A lot of the time he’s just letting his height and his natural impassivity do the work for him, because Kuroo seems to enjoy it as much as he enjoys it when Kei gives in to his urges and bites kisses all the way down Kuroo’s long neck, onto his chest and below. 

Other than those occasional forays into taking initiative, Kei is the one who slows them down and keeps things calm for the most part. It’s usually Kuroo who gets a little tipsy and amorous and drags Kei into his bed ostentably to do dirty things to him.

Of course, that’s not to say Kei isn’t a totally willing participant in said activities.

Kei allows himself to be manhandled into Kuroo’s bed (which smells nice and feels shockingly clean for a college boy’s bed) and lets Kuroo hold his wrists together in his long fingers, and doesn’t even pretend to not like it. He allows Kuroo to straddle his waist and keep him pinned down because it takes his breath away in a way that has nothing to do with the weight of a lanky giant sitting on top of him. He allows Kuroo to kiss him, sweetly at first and then filthily, tongue fucking Kei’s mouth with his spare hand flat on Kei’s chest, right over his heart. He allows Kuroo to kiss and bite and suck his lips until they feel tight and bruised. He even allows Kuroo to remove his glasses and place them delicately on their bedside, something that he wouldn’t have allowed anyone other than Yamaguchi to do, before.

He allows Kuroo to take any number of liberties up to that point, but the minute Kuroo goes for the front of Kei’s trousers, he taps out.

It’s easy enough to break Kuroo’s hold and turn them – especially if Kuroo is tipsy – so that Kei is sitting on Kuroo instead. It’s easy to break the kiss and reach into Kuroo’s pants instead, keeping unflinching eye contact. It’s extremely, shockingly enjoyable to use his fingers and his mouth to make Kuroo’s breath hitch and shatter, to make him sob Kei’s name and fist the bedsheets like he’s desperately holding himself from falling off some high ledge. 

In the months that have gone by, Kei has become an expert in dissecting Kuroo’s pleasure. Or at least, he’s getting there. And still, every time is like an adventure, and he discovers something new about his boyfriend (holy shit his _boyfriend_ , Kei has a _boyfriend_ ). 

It’s extremely easy to follow Kuroo into his room, knowing what they’re going to do, when Kuroo’s got warm fingers curled into his own, when he’s looking at Kei like he’s some sort of magical creature descended from the heavens to be with him. Kei will never admit how much he adores being adored, especially by Kei.

What’s not easy, is drawing a line.

What would it hurt, a voice asks when Kuroo is gasping beneath him, to let himself be touched in kind? What would it hurt if Kuroo wrapped his impossibly long fingers around Kei’s cock the same way he wrapped them around Kei’s wrists? Whom would it hurt if Kei, for once, allowed Kuroo to draw him into his wide, stupid, smirking mouth?

No one.

It wouldn’t hurt anyone. 

Except that, for some stupid, _childish_ reason, Kei wants Kuroo to be sober, at least for their first time.

It’s probably a stupid requirement and objectively he knows that the entire concept of first times and virginity is nonsensical. Just because Kuroo’s first time had been with someone else didn’t mean that Kuroo doesn’t care for him _now_ , that’s just stupid. When Kuroo is with him Kuroo is _totally_ with him, and he never had so much to drink that he didn’t know what he was doing, or that he didn’t stop when Kei even looked a little uncomfortable.

It’s good, it’s a _relief_ to know that Kuroo is himself, even beneath the glaze of sweet cocktails and hoppy beers, that his base personality doesn’t change, that there is no monster hiding underneath.

But the longer Kei waits, the more he wonders why Kuroo never takes Kei back to his room when he’s sober.

A normal person like Yamaguchi wouldn’t have thought anything of it. People get... amorous when they’re drunk. Even Kei knows this. It doesn’t mean that Kuroo doesn’t like Kei when he was sober. Right? It doesn’t mean that Kuroo would laugh at Kei’s desire to be sober for his first time, surely. Kuroo never laughs at him, though he’s always laughing at everything else, like the whole world is a joke. Maybe he _is_ laughing at Kei, and Kei just hadn’t realised it? 

Kei knows this is a thing that happens to him. Intrusive thoughts lead to panic spirals and then to mind-bogglingly illogical conclusions. The knowledge doesn’t make it any less inevitable, or inescapable.

He’s bringing this whole mess on himself.

It would do absolutely no harm to let Kuroo touch him like that the next time he takes Kei to bed. It might even be good if he could let go of his stupid antiquated notions before Kuroo starts thinking Kei doesn’t want him. Especially since it isn’t true.

Kei wants Kuroo so badly he’s almost gagging for it, as crude as it seems. Kei can’t even look at his boyfriend now, without imagining Kuroo beneath him, or on top of him, drawing his glasses off and kissing him, and reaching into his pants and making him shudder the way Kuroo does when Kei touches him.

But he can’t.

And it’s stupid.

He needs help and there’s only one person he can turn to for this.

- 

“Yamaguchi, have you ever had sex?”

There’s a high-pitched squeal that breaks across the distorted Skype connection and Kei is incredibly glad that he hadn’t accepted the video call, because even seeing Yamaguchi’s excited anime face would have been the nail in his coffin.

“Get it all out,” he says dryly, because really, Yamaguchi won’t be able to keep it in.

Yamaguchi breaks for a breath and starts squealing again, and it makes Kei smile a little helplessly. He’s never understood how his best friend gains so much happiness from his own, but he appreciates it all the same.

“Okay, what do you need to know?” Yamaguchi asks when he’s finally calmed down, long minutes later.

“Answer my question first, Yamaguchi,” Kei drawls. “Have you ever had sex or is your advice going to come straight from fanfiction?”

He can actually hear Yamaguchi shrug, a rustle of cloth against the speakers. “Why not both?”

“Stop talking to me in memes. Have you had sex or not?”

Yamaguchi shrugs again. “I don’t think I want to. I’ve sexted and kissed some people and maybe fooled around a little bit, but I don’t think I want to do the whole Tab A in Slot B thing that everyone does.”

Kei takes a moment to think about this, and shrugs. “Fair. You okay with that?” He asks, because he genuinely cares even if he doesn’t know how to express it properly.

“I may have had a bit of a freak out about it a month ago, but I’m okay now.”

“You didn’t call,” he says, and Kei can feel a frown distorting his own face, though he hopes he doesn’t sound accusing. He hopes he hasn’t become one of those people who abandons his friends when he enters a relationship...

“I was, uh. I was with someone. They helped and I was okay, so I didn’t need to call.”

“Are you ever going to tell me who this someone is?”

He can hear Yamaguchi shrug again. “Not yet, Kei-kun. One day, but I’m not ready to share, I think.” 

“In your own time then, Tadashi. I just hope you know that I will always be there for you, no matter what’s going on in my life. Never hesitate to call if you need me. I know people who drive, I can be home in a couple of hours if anything happens.”

There’s a telling silence, one which Kei suspects is hiding tears. 

“I love you, Kei.”

“And I love you too, Tadashi. Even though I hate that you make me say this mushy shit, how dare you.” His tone isn’t truly angry though, more teasing than anything else. Yamaguchi huffs a laugh, but Kei doesn’t have the chance to treasure it because suddenly there’s a cold nose pressed into the base of his neck and it’s so shocking that he nearly drops his phone, accidentally cutting the call to Yamaguchi.

He makes to turn around but he doesn’t have to see a face to recognise Kuroo’s hands on his hips, improper but calm as you please, in broad daylight. The phone starts buzzing frantically in his hand, and he’s not sure whether Yamaguchi is calling or if he’s spamming messages, but the way Kuroo’s fingers slide through his belt loops is so distracting that he’s not sure he can muster the focus to read a message, let alone talk to Yamaguchi in coherent sentences.

He’s more irritated with himself than anything else, but it fizzles out when Kuroo steps in closer behind him, pressing his chest against Kei’s back, pulling Kei’s ass against his own hips. There’s a voice in Kei’s head, screaming reminders that they shouldn’t do this; that they’re in public.

He opens his mouth to give Kuroo a piece of his mind, but Kuroo preempts him. “There’s no one else around, doll.”

Kuroo is full of shit but he would never lie about something like that, not when so much is at stake, and Kei feels the tension slide from his shoulders. He gives in to the impulse and drops his head back, letting his weight sag against Kuroo’s body. Kuroo readily braces for it, stepping in between Kei’s feet and locking his knees. He nibbles on Kei’s earlobe and Kei doesn’t bother hiding his phone screen when he replies Yamaguchi’s increasingly ridiculous messages with a simple ‘call you later.’

Before he can dim his screen and slide the phone into his pocket, Yamaguchi replies with a series of winking emojis, followed by ‘ _say hi to Kuroo-san for me xxx_ ’ and then another line of winking emojis.

That little shit.

Kei rolls his eyes and slides his phone into his back pocket, even though he has to elbow Kuroo in the ribs to do it. He doesn’t mean it to hurt. Much.

“So mean,” Kuroo sighs, but it doesn’t sound like a complaint, and he certainly doesn’t let go of Kei.

“You like it,” Kei replies, not even sure where the flirtatious words come from. 

“God help me, I do.” Kuroo sounds besotted, and it goes a long way towards making Kei feel better about his earlier panic spiral.

For now.

- 

It happens again.

The volleyball team throws a surprising number of parties, but seeing as Kei never attends anyone else’s parties, he has no idea whether it’s normal or not.

It gets... not better, but less unbearable, after the first dozen. People now know well enough to leave him alone, and he only ever makes a couple of appearances to stare down drunk people who think Kuroo is available just because Kei isn’t physically around. Once, he even made a guy cry for feeling Kuroo up, which was nice. The crying, not the groping, though Kuroo is very nice to touch.

In his defence, Kuroo never even looks at anyone else the way he looks at Kei, which is... it’s flattering.

It’s flattering and heady and Kei kind of loves how Kuroo lights up when he walks in and comes over to beg for attention like an over-eager puppy. He kind of loves it a _lot_ , though Kuroo would never forgive being compared to a dog (he prefers cats).

Kuroo looks really nice, like he usually does. He’s in all-black of course, because his wardrobe is unimaginative in the extreme, but someone’s painted eyeliner on him, making his already sultry eyes even more devastating. He looks like a predator out on the prowl, and Kei - it does things to him. Funny things deep inside his chest, in his belly and the base of his spine.

As usual, Kuroo gets even more handsy when he’s tipsy and Kei allows it, letting Kuroo snuggle up to him where everyone can see, and eventually the dam breaks, leading to Kuroo grabbing his hand and leading him out of the crowded room to a cacophony of cat-calls and whistles. If they knew how virginal Kei was, it wouldn’t be so funny.

Kuroo doesn’t seem to care one bit, and they’re kissing the moment the bedroom door closes. His lips taste like vanilla candy, which means that someone has even painted lip gloss on him. Really, it’s unfair how lovely Kuroo is when he’s like this, all sticky sweet and needy.

Kei doesn’t like to brag but he thinks his kissing has improved since they first started months ago. Now he can hold his own, standing taller than Kuroo and pressing him back against the door, fingers tangled in his spiky gelled-up hair. Kuroo moans into the kiss and lets Kei take charge, and that’s mind-boggling too, that someone like Kuroo could like something like this.

Kei is just tall enough to tilt Kuroo’s head back and still be able to kiss him, and he presses his thigh in between Kuroo’s legs, making it impossible for him to move in either direction, immobilised. Kuroo melts into it, pants and whines and curls his fingers into Kei’s clothes and hair, and Kei adores this too, how Kuroo isn’t afraid to beg, because Kei will never deny him this.

When he finally pulls away and Kuroo opens his eyes, his pupils are dramatically blown and his pulse is throbbing in the base of his neck, visible through his pale skin. Kei bends down to kiss it, and then pull a tiny fold of skin between his teeth in mimicry of a bite. Kuroo whimpers and his knees buckle, but Kei hauls him up before he can go anywhere, props him back against the door with his own body weight.

“You’re so beautiful,” Kuroo whispers, and Kei gets the distinct impression he hadn’t planned to say that. Still, it’s not something Kuroo hasn’t said before. It’s just taking Kei some time to believe it.

“You’re just saying that,” he replies, not really thinking about the words. “You’re just happy I didn’t let you faceplant.” Kei doesn’t wait for a response before he hauls Kuroo over to the single bed in the corner of the room and drops him there, pulling his shirt up over his head. Kuroo is obedient and pliant, still stunned and blinking from the sudden movement. Kei lowers himself to the ground in between Kuroo’s parted thighs and smirks a little at the way Kuroo curses and swallows his tongue.

Kuroo’s jeans are always impossibly tight, but that makes it even more fun to peel them off, especially when Kei gets to slide his hands between skin and fabric as if to loosen them, a flimsy excuse to touch bare skin. Kuroo always goes limp and stupid, pressing his face into Kei’s chest and letting Kei take any liberties he likes.

As usual, Kuroo is entirely uncooperative, giggling when Kei tips him back to peel the jeans off his calves and then past his feet. When he’s divested of his bondage-wear, he just lies there on the bed, half-on and half-off the mattress, at Kei’s mercy. Kei had been planning to use his mouth and possibly his teeth, but this Kuroo looks vulnerable, like he wouldn’t hold up to rough handling tonight. It’s not like Kei minds. Being gentle is just as rewarding.

He nudges Kuroo until he gets on the bed properly and puts his head on the pillow. He’s tipsy enough to be giggly, but not enough that he’ll be feeling sick. Kei doesn’t hesitate to lie down beside him, prop himself up on one elbow and look down at his inebriated boyfriend. “Hello, drunkard,” he whispers, giving in to the impulse to touch the tip of Kuroo’s nose with one gentle finger.

Kuroo’s eyes flare open and he gapes in mock-outrage. “I’m not a drunk!” he sputters, but he’s only playing, given away by the little tick in the corner of his mouth. Kei touches it with soft fingers, and then Kuroo’s lips, which are soft from the lip gloss but not tacky anymore. Kuroo pulls the tip of Kei’s index finger into his mouth and holds it between his teeth before pulling it in and wrapping his tongue around it. Kuroo doesn’t break eye-contact and Kei can’t help but imagine if his finger were something else, what it would feel like.

He doesn’t know what he looks like but Kuroo clearly likes it, judging by the way his grin grows wider and wider until he can’t keep Kei’s finger in his mouth anymore. It’s probably one of the lamest things Kei has ever seen, but it’s still stupidly attractive, and he wants to be angry at himself for being such a pushover. Instead he’s just helplessly turned on.

“Will you let me touch you, tonight?” Kuroo asks a moment later, one hand sliding down Kei’s side to his hip and then over the swell of his ass.

Kei swallows hard. Kuroo never asks this, not verbally. Usually it’s a physical thing, when Kuroo reaches for him and Kei guides his hand somewhere else. Faced with a question, Kei has no choice but to reply. He steels himself, ducks his gaze, and makes a choice. He nods, hunching in on himself a little, suddenly impossibly shy. He braces himself for Kuroo’s hot hands on his skin and shivers a little with anticipation. No matter how this goes down, it will be good; that much he’s sure of.

Then unexpectedly, nothing happens for a long moment, and when he looks up, Kuroo doesn’t look tipsy anymore. In fact, he looks like someone has just thrown a bucket of cold water over him, completely and miserably alert. The mood in the room plummets sharply. Kei starts racing through his own memories to figure out what he did to put that look on Kuroo’s face.

“Um,” Kuroo swallows and his throat bobs a little. Kei can’t look away from his face, though it looks like a trainwreck, like he’s witnessing something horrible. “Maybe we don’t have to do this tonight. Or at all, really, if you want! It’s okay!” The words come out a little pitchy and strained, and Kuroo is definitely not okay. Kei can feel his own mask falling into place and he draws back, creating a little distance between their bodies even though there isn’t much space on the mattress. “Do you want me to go?”

The offer makes Kei feels like he’s been doused in cold water himself, and thinks he probably looks like it too. “Why? What did I do?” he asks. He wants to sound rational and calm, but he’s not quite able to control the panic in his voice.

“Nothing!” Kuroo is a little too loud and it makes Kei flinch involuntarily. “Nothing darling, you did nothing wrong. Would you be more comfortable if I slept downstairs?”

And it’s stupid and he knows it’s stupid but tears start brimming in his eyes, because he’s fucked up somehow and he doesn’t even know how. Why else would Kuroo be trying to leave?

“Shit, don’t cry,” Kuroo says, reaching out and then flinching back like he’s hit an electrical barrier between them. “Shhh, Kei, you’ve done nothing wrong, it’s me, it’s my fault, I’m so sorry baby,” and it’s not helping at all because now there’s a small gulf between them and not a single point of contact, and Kuroo doesn’t even want to touch him.

He’s not sure how he finds strength in his limbs, but he rolls off the bed and pulls his own shirt on. “Darling, don’t go,” Kuroo whispers, “it’s late and it’s not safe. Let me go instead.” 

“It’s fine,” Kei replies, soft even though he’s not trying to keep his voice down. “It’s your room. I’ll just sleep—” he trails off, because he’s not sure where he can sleep. Waking up on the couch would be a dead giveaway that Kuroo doesn’t want him anymore. Kei isn’t ready to announce that to the world yet. He wonders how many people saw this coming.

There’s a deafening whine rising in Kei’s ears, but Kuroo’s voice still comes through somehow. “How about I find my grandma’s futon and you can sleep on it, or I can sleep on it and you can sleep up here. We can talk about this tomorrow morning? Somewhere other than my room, if you want to?”

In all his years of knowing Kuroo, Kei doesn’t think he’s ever heard him sound so uncertain, not even when he’d been saying stupid things. That’s what hammers it in for Kei, that this is over. Kuroo’s finally lost confidence in him.

He nods, because what difference does it make anyway? The least he can do now is preserve his dignity, though tears are running down his cheeks. When Kuroo lies down on the futon, Kei takes the bed with little protest. It’s his last chance to ever sleep in it, and even if it’s a little pathetic he’s not going to give it up. He can’t help but think back to that first night he’d spent in this room, how things had seemed so different then, so full of potential.

He doesn’t think either of them are planning to sleep that night, though they turn off the lights and pretend to.

Still, despite everything, the smell of Kuroo in his bedsheets is familiar and comforting, and Kei eventually dozes off, wrapped in Kuroo’s favourite duvet.

The following morning sees Kuroo waking Kei up early. It’s a good thing Kei is used to having less sleep, because otherwise he’d look like Kuroo does, like death warmed over.

“There’s a quiet park nearby that will be empty at this time. Let’s go and talk.” Kei doesn’t object. There’s no sense in putting off the inevitable.

They pick up coffee from the only café that’s open this early, and true enough there are plenty of couple’s benches dotted around the green, none of them occupied. It’s just early enough to be pleasant, even though the wooden seats are damp with dew.

They sit in silence, half of foot of space between them. Kei doesn’t know what to say, or how to even begin.

Eventually Kuroo starts. “So I think there have been some misunderstandings between us. I’d just like to say that whatever went wrong was totally a mistake. I’ve never intended to hurt you or disregard your opinions again, not after last time. So whatever this is can be fixed, you just have to be honest with me, okay?”

He sounds so sincere and solemn that Kei can feel a lump growing in his throat. He nods instead of speaking; it’s far less risky.

“Do you want to start or should I?” Kuroo asks, and Kei shakes his head, hoping Kuroo gets it without him having to use his words. “All right. I’ll go. I really, really like you, Tsukishima Kei. I like you a whole lot, and I think it’s pretty obvious.” Kei knows he can’t keep the blush off his cheeks, so he doesn’t even try. “I like doing things with you, whether it’s in bed in the dark or just like this, sitting outside, or talking or eating together, I don’t care. I like spending time with you.”

His hand is on the wooden seat between them, and he’s being so brave that Kei can’t help but reach out and put his own hand on top of Kuroo’s. Maybe it’ll reassure him that Kei likes all those things too.

Kuroo doesn’t look at him but he turns his hand around so their fingers can interlock. He squeezes tight and a tiny smile tugs at the corner of his lips, making him look a hundred times more relaxed. Not normal yet, but better.

Then Kuroo takes a deep breath and starts again. “Last night, you lied to me.” Kei blinks. “When I asked if I could touch you, you said yes but you didn’t want it.” Kei feels a frown beginning to furrow his forehead. “I should have kept calm, but I freaked out because we’ve been doing a lot of stuff and I promised you at the beginning that I’d never do anything that you didn’t want to do. I swore to myself that I’d take care of you, and be careful, and I wasn’t, and that’s not who I want to be. I don’t want you to go along with what I want just because I want it, you know? I want you to want it too, and if you don’t that’s okay too. I just don’t want to be that person.”

Kuroo is saying a lot of words which don’t make a lot of sense to Kei, but he thinks he gets the gist of it, and he has to stop the flow before it gets even more ridiculous.

“I did want it,” Kei says, interrupting Kuroo’s increasingly dramatic self-flagellation.

“See!” Kuroo exclaims, “that seems perfectly sincere to me but now I just don’t know! What if I thought I could read you but I really can’t and everything–“

“Oh my _god_ Kuroo, shut up for one second and let me talk!” Kei exclaims, and Kuroo falls instantly silent.

“Sorry,” Kuroo whispers but zips his lips when Kei glares at him.

“Talking about feelings is... difficult for me,” Kei says, pinning Kuroo with a glare to head off any smart comments. “So you’re in trouble for making me do this, but.” He takes a deep breath to steel himself. “I’ve always wanted it. Whatever we’ve done, I’ve wanted it, and more. I’ve always felt safe with you because you’re a good person, and I never once thought that if I asked you to stop, you wouldn’t listen to me. I’d trust you with my unconscious body as much as I’d trust my own brother, Kuroo. Yeah you might draw a moustache on my face but you’d never hurt me, and you’d never let me get hurt, and if I didn’t know that for sure, I wouldn’t be with you.”

Kuroo’s grip is frighteningly tight in his own, and instead of scaring him it gives him courage to continue.

“I’ve never had sex before,” Kei admits, and ducks his head so he doesn’t have to see the surprise on Kuroo’s face. He doesn’t think he’s in any state to cope with it if Kuroo found it too weird to want to carry on with him. Virginity is hardly an attractive characteristic. There’s a long beat of silence but Kuroo’s fingers don’t let go of his own.

“I know,” Kuroo replies, gentle and even like he’s talking to a skittish horse. Kei flinches a little, because that’s even worse. Because if it’s sympathy or pity in Kuroo’s voice, that’s so much worse than simple shock. Thankfully Kuroo doesn’t let go of his hand, so there’s at least some measure of comfort.

He figures he should just get it over with, since he’s already come this far. “I’ve never had sex with anyone, I’ve never even wanted if. I’ve always wanted - I want it with you. I really do,” Kei says, turning to Kuroo suddenly, because this is a point that has to be made carefully and thoroughly, “but I’m a little nervous, and I thought I’d be less jittery if we were both sober.”

Kuroo jerks like he’s been hit over the head with a pole. “Oh shit, oh my _god_ of _course_ ,” he slaps his own face with his spare hand, and it’s comically loud in the quiet of the morning. “I’m an idiot, I’m so sorry, I should have realised!”

“You’re not an idiot, Kuroo. This is just something I need to get over, I’m sorry it’s taking me so long,” Kei apologises because it seems like the thing to do, and because he genuinely is sorry that they’d misunderstood each other so badly. He can just visualise himself crying like a child the night before and he wants to kick himself.

Kuroo doesn’t reply but brings their clasped hands to his lips and kisses Kei’s fingers. Then he cups Kei’s cheek and pulls him into a kiss, chaste and sweet and tender. “You don’t have to apologise or to get over it. I care for you a lot,” he says, and then kisses Kei again. “I care for you _a lot_ ,” he repeats, like he’s trying to say something else, “and I’m not going to make fun of you for this. It’s perfectly understandable and I should have seen it instead of jumping to conclusions last night.”

Which, yeah, Kei can agree with that. They’d both done a lot of that in the past twelve hours. He nods, but when he tries to hide his face because he can’t find the words to reply, Kuroo doesn’t let him and draws him into another kiss.

They stay there like that for another thirty minutes, curled into each other on a hard bench, kissing and holding hands until a groundskeeper shoes them away with a giant rake-broom-thing.

“Let’s make a date of it,” Kuroo says when they’re walking back to his room. There’s a genuine smile stretching out his stupid lips, like he’s actually looking forward to having sex with an awkward virgin like Kei. Kei would do anything to be less inexperienced but he supposes that these are the cards he’s been dealt. Things could definitely have been worse.

“A date of what?” Kei asks, because according to Yamaguchi, his secret super power is making things awkward. He doesn’t think it’s all that secret.

Kuroo flutters his lashes, as always unaffected by shame. The eyeliner from the previous night is still in place, though in the light of day it makes Kuroo look a lot less mysterious, and a whole lot like he’d been trying to look pretty. Kei thinks it makes him look lovely, though he thinks Kuroo looks really nice pretty much all the time, anyway.

“Your deflowering, of course,” Kuroo replies sweetly. He only winces a little when Kei smacks his shoulder, but he doesn’t take his words back and Kei doesn’t want him to. The idea of them  _planning_  to have sex is more arousing than it is embarrassing, and Kuroo isn’t the only one who’s learned a lesson; Kei is done being ashamed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only problem with planning the thing is that someone actually has to _plan_ the thing, and Kei isn’t brave enough to discuss dates and times and positions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have safe sex, kids!

Kuroo doesn’t seem surprised when Kei suggests that they wait until the end of term to do anything more than fooling around. He just kisses Kei and smiles like there’s nothing he wants to do more than wait for his dorky boyfriend.

Kei reckons that waiting until winter break gives him enough time to figure things out, but not enough time to panic, since the semester is almost over anyway.

Also, since everyone will be going home for New Year, there’s less risk of people barging in on them unannounced. He’s seen that movie with Yamaguchi; he’s going to be locking all their doors.

When asked, Kei says that as a scholar he’s expected to stay in college over term breaks, because he has to keep up his grades  _and_  his volleyball performance. It’s believable enough. Kuroo stays in college ostensibly because his family has gone on holiday to Europe without him, and there’s no one left at his place. Once the underlying stress is gone, the anticipation is more fun than he’d ever expected it to be. With the promise of their relationship going to the next level, everything they do feels like really extended foreplay.

There’s no good reason why Kei packs a bag and moves into Kuroo’s room over the break, but there’s no one around to see it, so they don’t bother coming up with an excuse.

Living with Kuroo - because that’s what it is - is a totally different experience. The environment is familiar, because Kei knows the Volleyball house as well as he knows his own dorm, but the mood is entirely different, especially since they’re the only ones in the house.

Kuroo makes space for Kei’s hair products on the side of his sink. They share soaps and shampoos, even the strawberry scented 2-in-1 Kuroo had bought for Kei as a joke. There’s only one tube of toothpaste shoved between their toothbrushes in a plastic cup on the counter. Kuroo makes space for Kei's  clothes in the creaky old wooden dresser.

Their shared bed is hardly spacious, but there’s a charm to how Kei sleeps like a log (in one position for 8 hours or more), while Kuroo sleeps like an electrocuted octopus (arms and legs moving all over the place through-out the night). Kei sleeps beneath the window on the left, and Kuroo on the edge to the right, wrapped around Kei to keep from falling off the bed while they’re sleeping. Kei wonders if it wouldn’t be easier for him to sleep on top of Kuroo, just to keep him in one place, but he also likes it when Kuroo wraps his arms around his waist and snakes his hands up the back of Kei's t-shirt; a loving promise that if Kuroo falls off the bed, he’s taking Kei with him.

Still, he’s willing to put up with midnight acrobatics in exchange for Kuroo’s hands on his body. It’s really nice. Kei had expected to hate living with someone, but apparently he’s been trying to share space with the wrong sort of people. If he'd been living with Hinata there would have been a murder by now. Kuroo makes things easy.

The only problem with planning the thing is that someone actually has to  _plan_  the thing, and Kei isn't brave enough to talk about dates and times and positions. He just can’t bring himself to raise the issue, no matter how much he enjoys catching glimpses of Kuroo’s ass in his tiny shorts, or how much he really,  _really_  wants to tangle his fingers in Kuroo’s disastrous hair and have his way with him. He can’t, even though he knows he has to be the one to raise it, because Kuroo will never ask for fear that he’s pressuring Kei.

When he comes back to the room late one afternoon and finds Kuroo face down and dead to the world, Kei realises that it’s his chance. He places an order for pizza to be delivered in a couple of hours and sits down on the bed beside Kuroo. The available space is so narrow that he can’t balance unless he leans over Kuroo and props his hand on the other side of Kuroo’s slim hips.

Kuroo’s hair is really amazing, because even though it’s stiff enough to defy gravity in the light of day, right now it looks so soft that Kei can’t resist the urge to kiss it. He smells like shampoo and clean bed-sheets and the empty packet of gummy bears that’s lying beside his pillow. Kuroo’s like a giant child sometimes, but Kei wouldn’t have him any other way.

Kuroo hums when Kei kisses the back of his head but doesn’t wake up, so Kei does it again, working his way down Kuroo’s neck and back, his shoulder blades and down the center of his spine.

“I must be dreaming,” Kuroo mumbles when Kei thumbs the dimple in the small of his back, pressing a kiss to the base of his spine. His voice is rusty with sleep but he sounds like he’s smiling into his pillow.

“I’m flattered,” Kei replies wryly before planting a wet, open-mouthed kiss on the side of Kuroo’s chest furthest from him. Kuroo huffs when Kei leans his weight across his back, but doesn’t protest, and Kei kisses him again, marvelling at the softness of the skin there.

Kuroo squirms a little and Kei grins, safe in the knowledge that no one can see him; his boyfriend is more ticklish than he’d care to admit. When he catches a tiny fold of skin between his teeth and nips, Kuroo bucks hard enough that Kei would have fallen if he hadn’t been draped across Kuroo’s back. Kei shifts his weight to allow Kuroo to turn to face him, lying back down once Kuroo is on his back. He’s pouting, but his furrowed eyebrows make him look almost petulant. “Don’t do that,” he chides.

His alleged bad-boy boyfriend is too damn cute. “How else was I supposed to get your attention?” He asks, tracing Kuroo’s lips with a gentle thumb, admiring the dimple in the corner of his mouth. Beneath him, Kuroo’s body is sleep warm and his skin is a little damp with sweat.

Kuroo’s mock-glare fades into a fond look and he rolls his eyes a little. “Don’t you know, you always have my attention.” Kei has no choice but to kiss him, in reply.

Their kisses are always fantastic and this one is no different. Kuroo somehow strikes the balance between ceding control, and giving as good as he gets. Instead of fighting him, Kuroo sinks back into his pillow and lets Kei melt into him, opening his mouth to tangle their tongues.

It makes for an incredibly lush kiss and it makes Kei breathless, like kissing Kuroo always does.

Kei draws back long moments later, parting from the kiss with teeth snagged gently around his lower lip, Kuroo looking up at him adoringly.

“Can we?” Kei asks, because even now words fail him. Of course they do. He hopes Kuroo knows what he means.

Kuroo’s smile widens impossibly and he nods. “Take your shirt off, then. I want to see you.”

It’s still light outside but the sun is setting. The room is cast in shadows, so it’s just dark enough for Kei to be brave. He pulls off his shirt and drops it on the floor, uncaring of its fate. His shorts join it, leaving him as bare as Kuroo is, in his underwear.

“Come here,” Kuroo whispers. Kei lets himself be arranged so that he’s straddling Kuroo’s waist, Kuroo’s hands safely planted on his lower back. “Would you like to fuck me?” Kuroo whispers into Kei’s mouth, and Kei - Kei knows what they’re doing, what they’re planning to do, but he’s so surprised that he jolts a little, taken aback. Kuroo doesn’t repeat the question and Kei does him the courtesy of really thinking about it. It’s not that the idea isn’t incendiary, it is. It’s just that. Well. Kei’s not even sure how it’s supposed to feel, let alone take charge -

He shakes his head, embarrassed. What kind of man turns his lover down when he asks to be fucked? Kei wishes he had more experience, but it can’t be reconciled with the fact that there’s no one he’d trust more with his body than Kuroo, especially not for this first time.

“Would you like me to suck you off?” Kuroo asks, interrupting the train of self-deprecating thoughts, and okay at least Kei knows what that’s supposed to be like, but still.

He shakes his head again. Kuroo doesn’t look disappointed, which is the biggest relief. He just waits patiently while Kei gathers his words. “Will you fuck me?”

There’s a sharp intake of breath but Kei can’t see Kuroo’s face because his eyes are squeezed shut, and he’s just about ready to put his clothes back on and run when Kuroo pulls him close again.

Kei blinks his eyes open when Kuroo stops just short of a kiss, mouths so close that Kei can feel Kuroo’s breath on his lips. Kuroo looks like he’s searching for something in Kei’s face. “You sure?” he asks after a long minute, and their lips barely brush together but the intimacy is almost overwhelming.

Kei nods and whispers, “don’t make me say it again.” The words should sound threatening but they're really a plea.

Kuroo laughs and from this distance, it’s even more beautiful. Kei can’t help but lean in for a kiss which Kuroo returns, sweet and chaste. “Any opinions on how to do this, or should I decide?” Kei doesn’t even have to hear the question before he’s shaking his head. He doesn’t want to decide.

“Okay then, up you get. Take off your boxers first.” Kei moves back immediately to obey, and Kuroo gets up too, turning to rummage through his wardrobe, giving Kei a bit of privacy. It hardly matters, considering what they’re going to be doing soon, but Kei appreciates it anyway. His boxers are pooled around his ankles when Kuroo turns around, and his soft smile widens into a toothy grin when he sees Kei standing there, completely naked.

The scrutiny makes Kei feel impossibly shy, especially since Kuroo’s still wearing his own underwear, and he moves to cover himself even though he’s not sure if he should cover his dick or his face. Kuroo steps close to him before he can, and rests his hands on the small of Kei’s back instead. It’s nothing he hasn’t touched before, but Kei has never been so naked in front of another person in his entire life. It feels new and different, and he can feel his heart rate increasing.

“You’re gorgeous,” Kuroo whispers. He sounds so sincere that Kei can feel a blush rising in his cheeks. “So fucking pretty, I can’t believe you want to do this with me.” The honesty in Kuroo’s voice becomes a little too much, and Kei presses his face into Kuroo’s neck because he has to hide his face or self-combust. Immediately Kuroo’s hands wrap around him and Kei hugs back. He can feel Kuroo’s heart beating against his own and it takes his mind off the fact that he’s naked and Kuroo’s not.

After a long moment, Kuroo draws back and kisses Kei’s nose before taking off his glasses. “Alright, darling. Get on your hands and knees, please.” Kei’s heart skips a beat but he follows the instructions. He can feel his skin heating up at the lewdness of the position, blush spreading down his back and chest. There’s logically nothing to be ashamed of, and Kuroo is certainly not making him feel like there is, but still.

There’s a small click from where he thinks Kuroo is leaving his glasses on the bedside table, but it’s pure conjecture. Kei can’t see anything except the pillow beneath his face. He feels even more exposed now, with his ass up and his cock semi-erect, jutting into the cool evening air. He tries not to squirm under the scrutiny.

“Tsukki, babe, you’re unbelievable,” Kuroo says a moment later, and then there are hands running down his back, gentling him like he’s a wild animal. It shouldn’t work as well as it does.

“Use my proper name,” Kei manages, even though it feels like all his hair is standing on end.

“Alright, Kei,” Kuroo replies and Kei can hear the smile in his voice. It sets him at ease. “Hands on the headboard, please.” Kei complies and it’s instantly easier on his back and knees. He makes a note to himself.

Then a strip of red cloth – a tie – appears in front of his eyes. It’s draped around Kuroo’s fingers, shining slightly in the dim light. “I thought you might like this,” Kuroo says, wrapping the soft fabric around Kei’s wrists in loose figure-eights. It’s slack enough that Kei could free himself easily, but the feel of it against his skin is still blazingly hot. Kuroo doesn’t tie the ends together but Kei isn’t going to move his hands until he absolutely has to.

There’s a slight rustle and from the corner of his eye Kei can see Kuroo’s boxers land on the floor. He wants to look, but at the same time he doesn’t. Nothing’s even happened yet and the world is already swimming. The mattress dips behind him and then gentle hands spread his knees apart, making room for Kuroo between his legs. Kei sucks in a deep breath and tells himself to not panic.

It doesn’t work until Kuroo lines their bodies up and hugs Kei from behind. The heat of Kuroo’s body relaxes him instantly, every tense muscle easing when Kuroo nibbles at his earlobe.

“We can stop anytime you want, Kei,” Kuroo whispers.

It’s meant to be reassuring, but Kei can’t help but roll his eyes. He knows  _that_. “We haven’t even started, senpai.” It’s the first time he’s called Kuroo that in months and he can feel Kuroo’s responding shiver, but he doesn’t tell Kei to stop.

Kuroo touches him gently, carefully, like he’s worshipping Kei. Two fingers press past his lips into his mouth and the move is no less hot for familiarity. He focuses on making Kuroo’s fingers wet instead of on the hardness of Kuroo’s cock pressed against his back. He doesn’t seem to be paying it much mind, so Kei tries not to, either.

Kuroo uses his wet fingertips to draw tight circles around Kei’s nipples, a little cold and teasing but not nearly firm enough to give real pleasure. Kei can feel himself getting harder anyway, from the sheer intimacy of the touch. He arches his back like a cat and presses himself against Kuroo’s chest, but Kuroo doesn’t budge. Instead, he slides his hand down past the curve of Kei’s belly to wrap his fingers around Kei’s cock.

Kei doesn’t even pretend to keep composure then, shamelessly dropping his head to watch. It takes a second for his vision to swim into focus, but what he eventually sees is breath-taking. He’s been imagining this for so long that it’s a miracle he hasn’t come from just one touch. Kuroo’s fingers are stupidly long and pretty, and they wrap neatly around the girth of Kei’s cock. Kuroo is dark where Kei is pale, and the contrast is made even more stunning by the fact that Kei is flushing red, all the way from his stomach to the tip of his cock.

“Gosh,” Kuroo whispers, all sin and promise into Kei’s ear, “you’re so pretty I could just eat you up.” It’s ridiculous, it should  _sound_  ridiculous, but Kei can’t stopper the moan that trickles out of his throat at the thought of Kuroo’s mouth on him like that, consuming him whole.

The first stroke is shocking and Kei reflexively squeezes his eyes shut, biting his tongue against any sounds that might escape. Kuroo’s grip tightens around his cock, bordering on  _too_ tight, and all the breath leaves his lungs in one go. “Ah, ah,” Kuroo says directly into his ear, lips just brushing against the soft skin there. “Keep your eyes open, Kei. You’re staying right here with me.”

Kei wants to object, wants to say that he  _is_ there, it’s just that if he watches he’ll come before Kuroo can even get inside him. But words are difficult, and so it’s easier to open his eyes than it is to protest. Besides, looking down at Kuroo’s hand wrapped around his cock is not a hardship.

When Kuroo starts stroking him again, Kei can’t control his reactions. Kuroo’s hand is hot, and his grip is not nearly as firm as Kei wants it to be. He can’t see the look on Kuroo’s face but he desperately wants to. “Talk to me,” he whispers, because suddenly he feels all alone and it’s nerve-wracking.  

Kuroo doesn’t even hesitate before launching into a stream of filth.  _Loving_  filth, but filth all the same. Kei can’t help but imagine Kuroo doing everything he’s threatening to do, from making him come just like this, to putting his tongue inside Kei and making him cry, which he wants in a confusing, desperate sort of way. He can feel his heart pounding against the inside of his ribcage as sweat starts to bead on his forehead and on his back, where Kuroo is pressed against him.

If he had more sense left in him, he’d have worried it was gross and off-putting, but now, Kei can’t bring himself to care, not when his toes are curling and his cock is dripping onto the bedsheet and Kuroo is sucking bruises into his neck.

There’s something building inside him, something warm and wonderful. All his muscles, his belly, his back, his chest, everything is tensed in anticipation, like the wave is going to crest at any moment now, it’s  _dizzying._

He’s so caught up in the floating lifting sensation that when Kuroo stops, he lands  _hard_. The sound he makes is involuntary – closer to a whine than he’d care to admit. Kuroo soothes him until his breathing slows down and it feels less like he’s running a marathon, and more like he’s just finished a race. A quick sprint, maybe. His hands are shaking and his throat is desperately dry. “ _Fuck_ ,” he swears, and it makes Kuroo laugh.

“Darling, I thought you wanted me to  _fuck_  you.” Kuroo’s hand comes back up to tease his nipples but this time, his fingers aren’t covered in spit, they’re covered in something different entirely.  _This_  time when Kuroo rolls a nipple between a finger and a thumb, Kei  _squirms_. Kuroo’s cock is wet, hot, and heavy on his back, but he seems to be ignoring it still. Kei doesn’t want to. He wants to turn around and touch and taste.

He shakes his head, as if to clear his thoughts. “I did. I do, I mean,” he replies when he can find the words.

“Then I can’t have you coming like this now, can I?” Kuroo asks, sounding so smug that Kei wants to smack him a bit. He doesn’t, of course, mostly because his knees are shaking and if he lets go of the headboard he’s going to topple over.

Kuroo doesn’t wait for Kei to respond and uses one hand to detach Kei’s hands from the headboard. It takes some doing, because his fingers are stiff from how hard he's been gripping it. “Bear down,” Kuroo directs, once he’s rubbed feeling back into Kei’s hands, moving backwards to give Kei space. His wobbly knees make him less than graceful but Kei complies, letting Kuroo guide him down onto the mattress.

Kei presses his cheek into the pillow and wonders if he’ll feel mortified about this later on, but when he feels the silk tie around his wrists still he thinks he won’t be, not anymore. He's promised himself.

Kuroo draws back even further and positions himself behind Kei’s hips. He trails one finger between Kei’s cheeks, tracing lightly over Kei’s opening, and it’s difficult to not react. “Ever touched yourself here?” Kuroo asks, voice low and hoarse. In hindsight it’s a little odd that they’ve never discussed this before, but there’s nothing for it, so Kei shakes his head wordlessly. Kuroo rubs his finger a little harder and Kei feels himself clenching instinctively, making Kuroo swear under his breath. There’s a click of a bottle cap, and then a cool touch that makes Kei flinch. “Sorry,” Kuroo whispers but doesn’t take his cold fingers away.

The first finger slides into him with almost no resistance, lubricant easing the way. It doesn’t feel like much until a second finger slides into him. It doesn’t hurt, but Kei can feel the intrusion clearly. He squeezes his muscles experimentally and Kuroo spits out another low curse behind him. It’s almost funny, the way Kuroo is clearly reacting to this more than Kei is.

Kuroo worms his fingers deeper into Kei and it doesn’t exactly hurt, but Kei feels the urge to  _move_ , even though he’s not sure if he wants to move away or back towards Kuroo, or if it’s a muscle kink he just wants to stretch. Kuroo’s fingers curl a little and that  _definitely_  feels weird enough to make Kei squirm, bright pinpricks of sensation spotting his mind. Kuroo shushes him and strokes his back, and Kei takes a deep breath and lets himself be stilled.

“Can I put in one more?” Kuroo asks, though Kei doesn't know the answer to that; it's not like he’s ever done this before. He shrugs as best he can with his face pressed against the pillow, and leaves it up to Kuroo. “I’m stretching you now so I don’t hurt you later.” In any other circumstance, this would have been the perfect set-up for a dick joke, but it’s telling how Kuroo refrains. The lack of running commentary is unnerving, but in some ways Kei is glad, because it means he can hear Kuroo's harsh breaths behind him, and the slick of Kuroo's fingers  _inside_ him.

The third finger stings and Kei thinks he protests, but Kuroo just applies more lube before trying again. Even though Kei knows Kuroo’s fingers are relatively slender, they feel large inside Kei, and there’s a dull ache beginning to spread from his hips up to his lower back. After giving Kei a moment to acclimatize, Kuroo wriggles his fingers in as far as they’ll go and then curls them. Kei can feel the movement against his internal walls, blunt fingernails scraping against sensitive, spongy flesh, and the thought is mind-bogglingly hot, imagining Kuroo actually inside him, the closest they’ve ever been or that they'll ever be. Still, the ache is relentless, and he can feel himself deflating a little.

He forces himself to focus on his own breathing because if he doesn’t, he’ll just hold his breath until he passes out. Kuroo works his fingers around inside him for a bit, and while it gets easier, it doesn’t stop feeling weird until Kuroo touches something inside him that feels like an electrical outlet. It’s not just pleasure; it’s pure sensation, and Kei jerks like he’s been shocked by a cattle prod. His cock twitches. “What the  _fuck_ ,” he whispers, profanity escaping his lips.

Kuroo’s smugness feels like a physical thing when he does it again, and Kei’s heartbeat kicks up once more. “Ah, the wonders of the prostate,” Kuroo says proudly, like he's achieved something. Kei isn’t paying attention.

“Do that again,” he instructs when his vision has cleared. Kuroo obeys, only this time instead of brushing against it, he circles the little bump with the tip of his finger, pressing in firmly and making Kei shout with surprise. He draws back for a second but before Kei can catch his breath, Kuroo does it again, and that proves to be the breaking point.

Kei surges away from the stimulation and turns to face Kuroo. He shakes the tie off from around his wrists and yanks Kuroo into a biting kiss. “Fuck me right now,” he whispers into Kuroo’s mouth. He’s all but vibrating from the sparks running up and down his spine, past the edge of overwhelmed and somewhere on the other side. 

“One day I want you to ride me, just like this,” Kuroo says, like it’s a casual thing to say, and not like he’s  _breaking Kei’s mind_. “But for now, I want you to enjoy your first time,” he continues before tipping Kei onto his back. It’s a little uncomfortable until Kuroo slides off the bed and hikes Kei’s knee over his elbow. The tangle of limbs straightens into place, and when Kuroo wraps Kei’s other leg around his hip, he can see how this is going to happen. “This might hurt a bit, but tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

Kei nods but doesn’t say anything; he's too busy focusing on the strength of Kuroo's muscles holding him in place, and the way their cocks looks achingly hard between them.

When Kuroo guides the head of his cock into Kei's hole, Kei is instantly torn between the thrill of intimacy and the knee-jerk desire to push Kuroo away. He'd honestly expected it to feel more-or-less like Kuroo's fingers, but it doesn't. Kuroo's cock is significantly thicker, and the blunt head feels impossibly large inside him. Kei can’t help but wonder how it's all supposed to fit. He holds his breath and sinks his teeth into his lower lip, bracing himself against the shocking hurt.

Kuroo pulls out and for a brief second Kei is confused by the loss. Kuroo kisses him sweetly and  _almost_  distracts Kei from how his lower body feels like it's on fire. “We don’t have to do this, darling. We can always try again another time, or never again, if you don’t want to.”

Kei shakes his head and replies honestly. “It felt really good with your fingers. This hurts.” Kuroo huffs and kisses him again.

“Idiot. We don’t have to do this penetrative stuff at all, unless... Well, do you want to fuck me tonight?” To his credit, Kuroo doesn’t sound the least bit put off by that idea; in fact he sounds a little excited. There has to be something to this that he’s not getting, and Kei has never done well with failure. He shakes his head again.

“Try again, please.” He ignores the way Kuroo's fingers dig into his flesh; maybe he'll leave bruises, ten purple marks, printed like a pattern around his thighs. 

“I don’t want to make you cry, babe. This is supposed to be fun for both of us.”

“It is fun. Well, it was. I’m sure there’s a reason people do this. And besides, I never cry.”

“Don’t be stubborn, Kei,” Kuroo whispers, which is a surefire way to make Kei dig his heels in. “Lots of people don’t do this, even if they have the equipment for it. I’d like to put my dick inside you and make you feel good, but I’d like it just as much as I like doing anything else with you, even if you just want to take a break and have a nap, or something. This isn't something we have to do."

Kei rolls his eyes. “No, I’ve been waiting for this for ages now. Please, Kuroo.”

Kuroo sighs but doesn’t protest. More lubricant makes a world of difference, and the head of Kuroo's cock pops in before Kei even realises what's going on. The sudden fullness is so bizarre that it makes Kei hiccup, but it definitely doesn’t hurt as much as it had the first time. “Keep going,” he whispers. “I feel really full, but it’s… good.” Kuroo looks a little like he can't quite believe his luck, like his birthday has come early, a little dizzy and stupid with it. Kei  _adores_  him. 

He wraps his hand around Kei’s cock and it feels good enough to distract from the sheer intensity of Kuroo bottoming out, and from the slow grind of his hips against Kei's thighs. “God, you’re really inside me,” and it sounds so dumb but he really wants to touch the spot where he ends and Kuroo begins. He fumbles but there's no space between them - it's just skin against skin against  _heat_. 

Kuroo laughs quietly but Kei can feel him shaking inside him, and it makes  _him_  shudder and clench. The feedback means that eventually neither of them have enough breath left to laugh, so they just stay still for a bit, gasping. “Shit,” Kei says eventually, when he’s got his breath back.

“Shit,” Kuroo agrees, but it doesn’t sound flippant at all. “You ready?” Kei nods and fists his fingers into the bedsheet, bracing himself. 

When Kuroo draws back and fucks into him, Kei sees god. His jaw drops, but he can't make a sound, his throat isn't working. Kuroo pulls back, waits for a beat, and snaps back in, and  _this_  is what Kei has been dreaming about for so long. Not the awkwardness or the discomfort, but the skin-contact, the heat, the throb of Kuroo's blood inside him. He’s had Kuroo's cock in his mouth; he  _knows_  it as well as he knows his own cock, and now it's  _inside_  him. 

Kuroo’s cock pulses against that incredible spot in his ass and the entire world melts away into heat and friction. He feels his body temperature spike by a couple of degrees, or at least – it feels like it. Kuroo doesn't speed up, but lets his weight fall a little more each time, pushing his cock even deeper into Kei until there's nowhere left to squirm, nothing he can do but  _take it_. 

After a dazed minute or two, it becomes brutal, because even though Kuroo isn't fucking him like a jackhammer, he's relentless. Every thrust is punctuated by a careful swivel of his hips, grinding his cock into Kei's body like a pestle in a mortar, tripping him up the scale of pleasure in steady increments. Kei is so lost, his head is full of Kuroo and nothing else, and he's losing his mind, going blind, sobbing with every thrust. 

The ache is gone now, leaving only pleasure and heat and the sensation of being filled up to the brim. Kei just  _takes_ it, lets himself be fucked well and hard,  _revels_ in the way Kuroo is the only thing holding him still, his strong hands keeping his thighs open when all he wants to do is squirm and close his legs. 

"God, you're so  _beautiful_ ," Kuroo says and his voice sounds tight, like he's struggling for breath. Kei barely registers it, he’s dying – he  _needs_ to come, needs it like he needs air, but he’s losing himself. "I could do this for  _days_ ," and really, it's impractical but Kei can instantly visualise it, the heat and sweat and stickiness of it, the way he'd lose his  _mind_  from the sheer pleasure of it, overstimulated on the sounds, the smells, the  _feel_. He doesn't - he shouldn't, but he  _wants_  it more than he's wanted anything like this in a long time. 

When Kuroo wraps his hand around Kei's cock and sinks his teeth into Kei's shoulder, Kei comes instantly, toppling over a precipice he'd not even noticed was in front of him. It's so surprising that he yelps and throws his head back against the mattress, his entire body  _quaking_ with it, leaving him with curled toes and tears in his eyes, wave after wave of  _pleasure_  screaming through his veins. Kei gasps Kuroo's name because it's the only word left in his head, and Kuroo's rhythm stutters. On the next thrust Kuroo comes too, shaking apart, spilling deep inside Kei's body.

Kei's mind is buzzing, ears ringing, vision clouded over. Kuroo pulls out and suddenly everything is a lot wetter. It shouldn't be as hot as it is. The only thought Kei can muster is, "we should have done this ages ago." Kuroo just huffs a laugh and lowers his legs down. More stuff oozes onto the mattress, and their laundry is really going to be disgusting. 

"Don't worry about the bedsheets," Kuroo says, seemingly reading his mind. "We'll just burn them." 

Kuroo finds it in himself to roll his eyes. "If we burn the bedsheets everytime we have sex, you're going to have no bedsheets left, and then what will we do?" 

Kuroo stumbles at the implication but doesn't fall. He shoots a triumphant grin at Kei. "We'll have sex on plastic sheets. Then we can just hose them down in the garden like normal people." 

Kei raises an eyebrow and pretends he's not still twitching from the aftershocks. "I'm not letting you fuck me on plastic sheets." 

Kuroo shrugs and smirks, unashamed. "Then I'll let you fuck me on plastic sheets," he replies, wriggling his ass like - like an  _idiot_. Kei can't help but laugh at the sight. 

"You're an idiot," he says, but smiles so that Kuroo knows he's joking. There's a brief struggle when Kuroo tries to wipe between his legs with a wet towel and Kei kicks him in the chest, but when it's done and the towel has been returned to the bathroom, Kuroo crawls back into bed and lies down beside Kei. He drops a heavy arm across Kei's waist and snuggles into their usual sleeping position, knees entangled.

Not a minute later, the doorbell rings on the ground floor.

"Are you going to get up?" Kei asks when Kuroo doesn't even move. 

"Shh," Kuroo replies, eyes closed, lips twitching with a hidden smile. "I'm dead." 

Kei rolls his eyes and laughs, but doesn't object. He collects and leaves the pizza safely in the oven downstairs. When he gets back to bed, he wriggles back into the circle of Kuroo's arms and pulls Kuroo's face into the crook of his neck. Kuroo's  _heavy_ , but his miraculous hair is in Kei's face, and it still smells like  _their_ shampoo and clean sweat.  

"Thank you for waiting for me, Kuroo." Kei doesn't think it's possible for him to love Kuroo more than he already does, and he's grateful for a lot of things for which words will never suffice.

Kuroo doesn't even open his eyes to smack Kei's hip. "Don't be an idiot, Kei. Of course I waited, I'll always take care of you. You don't have to thank me for that." 

Kei shrugs and does nothing to cover his blush. "Still. Thanks anyway." 

"You're welcome, Kei. Good night." Kuroo's face is buried deep in an empty eider pillow, but Kei can see the beginnings of a smile curving his lips. 

"Good night, Kuroo." 

 

-

 

"Now that my dick has been in your ass, will you start calling me Tetsurou?" 

"Sure, senpai," Kei replies, half-asleep and half just to make Kuroo roll his eyes. 

 

-

 

“Shit,” Kuroo swears, sitting up all of a sudden.

Kei blinks awake, startled. “What.”

“We didn’t use a condom.  _Shit_.”

Kei rolls his eyes and flops back onto the mattress, dragging Kuroo with him. “We can get the morning after pill tomorrow,” he mumbles, pressing his face into Kuroo’s chest and sinking fast back into sleep. "Love you." 

"Love you too, Kei." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that marks me having published over 100,000 words this year \o/
> 
> I'm not super happy with this chapter but I've reworked it so many times I can't even think anymore; it is what it is, ready to be released into the wild. In addition, said reworking took place almost entirely on my phone, and at least 90% of it was done in the throes of severe sleep-deprivation, so please forgive any missing words or weird typos. 
> 
> Please send love to nourish my withered soul; it's the only thing sustaining me.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic involves two adults in an established relationship and they sometimes engage in adult activities while only one of them is totally sober. All activities are consensual and neither one is drunk enough to ignore/miss cues from the other. Mentions are made of one person telling the other to not proceed with a particular activity, but no lines are crossed and parties thereafter engage in a frank discussion of what made the first person uncomfortable. I'd describe this as a healthy and open relationship, but idk YMMV.
> 
> Also, Tsukki's opinions on virginity and what constitutes sex are not mine, so. 
> 
> The title comes from an adorable song called "Wait for Love" by St. Lucia. Send me love, pls.


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